Leave a Trace
by Yugoslavia
Summary: Dawn has been living back in Sinnoh on her own for about three months, and she's become fairly isolated from the rest of the world. When she receives chance phone call from her old friend Ash, Dawn jumps at the opportunity to go see him and reconnect, but the journey there is not as easy as she had expected. Commissioned on DeviantArt.
1. Chapter 1

"Dawn… _Dawn!_ "

Oh great, it was her again.

In the tall, ornate hallways that lined the main hall outside the Pokemon Contest auditorium, voices echoed and footsteps were heard. The loud booming sounds of the announcers came through the walls, recorded music echoing and the cheers of people coming through to fill the halls. Everyone was dressed up—from casual, 'night on the town' wear to the most ornate suits and gowns that the performers were wearing, dotting the scene with individual gorgeous radiance. The trappings of the halls—ranging from gorgeous silk, lavender-toned tapestries that were hung around the white stone columns, to ornate topiaries that had been attached to large iron hooks on the columns themselves, all the way up to the ceilings where complex murals of classical works had been painted—all bore the same tones and coloring of the city it belonged to: Hearthome City.

Hidden among complex decorations, a small front counter for a Pokemon Center was built into the wall. The traditional hardware that would normally only be seen in a Pokemon Center—trays for collecting Pokeballs, massive industrial healing beds, large displays that gave information to both trainers and the nurses that worked there—seemed out of place with the decorations of the Contest Hall—marble counters, wide archways, elegant flickering lamps, carefully constructed bouquets and classical paintings.

Dawn was standing in front of the counter, waiting, pretending she hadn't heard that voice moments earlier. Though she had been done up nicely—wearing a vibrant, rose colored dress that stood out among the pastel decorations around her—she looked frayed. Her eyes had a million-mile stare that was staring out at nothing, her lips pursed in an unusual, stressed way. Out of the corner of her eye, she was watching the display above the healing bed, waiting for the loading bar to reach the end of its end for her team of three.

"Dawn! Hey! Yoo-hoo!"

Nearly tripping, the new person who was entering the clearing in front of Dawn finally cleared the last ball gown she had stepped on it. It was a young girl—someone who reminded Dawn of herself from only a few years ago (or who she hoped she hadn't been). A girl in a white blouse with the sleeves rolled up, a warm-green scarf and long, skinny black pants that were rolled up just above her ankles, her pale feet in a pair of simple black flats. Freckles dotted her face, her thick brunette hair pulled back into a ponytail behind her head, bangs hanging just above her brow. A pair of green eyes matched the green streak in her hair.

Sage had lost her breath, having to take a moment to breathe that was longer than Dawn could take. She handed Dawn a short piece of paper, one that Dawn immediately snatched up and opened to read the small, penciled-in handwriting. It had a phone number, and 'missed call' written in the corner. Dawn's eyes narrowed on the phone number—something was awfully familiar about it.

"I'm really sorry about the whole 'giving you the wrong contest information' thing" said Sage, between wheezing, asthmatic breaths. "I had no idea it would be such a big deal—or that you'd go up against someone like Ursula! I thought she had totally disappeared!"

"A phone call? For me? Who is it from?"

Sage looked dizzy for a second. She then looked up at Dawn, thinking about the question before it even looked like she had an answer for her.

"Oh! It's from Ash."

Dawn stared at Sage. All of her rage melted away.

* * *

It took Sage a moment to fish out the key from her pocket, and then another moment to actually get the key in the slot on the door handle of her dressing room—the one with the Piplup painted on the door—to unlock it. Once in, the warm light of the inside bathed Dawn in its radiance, inviting them both in. Dawn had hurried ahead of Sage, moments before she had actually retrieved the key.

Dawn's cell phone was sitting on one of the counters that had been propped against a large vanity mirror, set aside from the many different boxes of makeup and accessories, largely where she had set it before leaving to go to her show. As she approached it, the screen lit up, showing everything that had happened during her performance in the Contest Hall.

A missed call, and a voice message—both from Ash. Quickly sitting herself down, she didn't hesitate to open it.

 _"_ _Hey Dawn, it's Ash."_

Dawn paused. Her breath had become excited, her eyes wide as she thought. A moment of silence as she looked to the ground and listened closely, only hearing Sage enter into the room just behind her.

 _"I… Sorry, it's very late._ _I didn't mean to call you this late—although, isn't it like night in Sinnoh or something? I—Never mind, sorry…_

 _"I wanted to hear how you've been! It's been so long. I saw you in Unova, but that was what—two years ago? Two and a half? Anyway, it's been too long,_ _and we really need to see each other._ _I've been home in Kanto for a bit—actually awhile since I've left Alola. Something like three, four months?_ _And it's been great! I've been seeing everyone—Brock, Misty,_ _the Professor… It's made me really miss my old friends._

 _"_ _I've just been thinking this past week that—I don't know where I'm going next. And… I've always wanted to_ _know how my friends are doing, ever since I've left them, but I've just been so busy in other place, you know?_ _Now I actually have time, so, I was thinking, let's see each other? Like, for fun? Just see how we're doing? I mean—I—_

 _"Oops! Sorry,_ _the phone says I need to wrap it up._ _But, hey, let's meet sometime. I was thinking—"_

It took Dawn a few seconds of listening to silence—and her own excited breaths—to realize that the message had cut out. When she looked over to her phone screen it was half-faded, moments before it went to sleep. Even when she pressed the button on the side, popping it back on, she saw that there was no more left to the message to listen to.

"Ash..." Dawn thought to herself quietly.

"Who's Alex?" asked Sage, her arms folded as she leaned in the doorway.

"Sage," said Dawn, getting to her feet. "I need you to make a phone call."

Sage blinked. "Wait, but don't we have another Pokemon Contest to compete in?"

"Nope. I'm… I'm leaving."


	2. Chapter 2

A red laser flashed in a short arc. In seconds, the red image of Piplup had appeared from thin air on the surface of one of the couches in the hotel lobby, moments before he fully materialized and dropped down for a soft landing on the plush cushions. His flipper feet slid out from underneath him, making him land on his bum, his large round head rolling for a second as he got used to his surroundings.

Holding out his blue flipper fins like hands, Piplup looked into them, making sure they were real. He then immediately reached for his head, rubbing away the onset of an immediate headache.

"Piplup..." he groaned quietly—coming out as a tiny, squawking sound.

"Hey buddy."

Piplup's head moved out from his flippers, looking out from between them and looking across the room. Before he could look at who was sitting just across from him—before he could look at where the source of that voice had come from—the lights in the room blinded him, making his tiny eyes throb with pain. He rubbed an eye, blinking the other as he adjusted to his surroundings, his headache slowly wearing off.

It was the hotel lobby he was in—he had smelled that familiar, strong scent of cinnamon that Dawn had caught him hypnotized by moments earlier. As he felt around him, he felt the plush, padded material of the couches him and Dawn had impromptu breakfast in the day before. When he looked up, he saw that Dawn was sitting right in the couch opposite him—just as she had the morning before—the source of the voice from a day before. Things were noticeably different this time around: her face, though the makeup had visibly been redone recently, had traces of the contest makeup in just how clean her complexion looked. Her hair was still glossy smooth from the show before, and she had fit the frosty white beanie she normally wore over her head like she was ready to travel again.

And then, Piplup remembered, that the last memory he had was fainting on the Pokemon Contest stage in an impromptu Pokemon battle—and hearing in the final seconds of his consciousness that Dawn had lost the battle. His eyes went wide with horror as he looked across at Dawn, seeing that she was no longer wearing the long, elegant pink gown she had on during the contest, and that she was now wearing her typical black top and pink skirt—complemented by a hot pink scarf. Down by her legs, pressed up against the front of the couch, a familiar set of pink suitcases were standing up and bulging with all of Dawn's things for the weekend. He could see in the decorative mirrors hung on the wall behind Dawn that it was now evening.

Had something bad happened that was making Dawn leave? Had Piplup been out of commission for so long he had missed the entire weekend of contests, or even a week? Had Piplup caused Dawn to disqualify out of participating in the contest?

"Geez guy, you really look like you took a tumble there. Nurse Joy wasn't kidding when she said you needed a lot more rest than usual," said Dawn, bearing a playful, smart smile.

"Pip… lup…?" Piplup was shivering with fear, the dozens of terrifying prospects racing through his head. His eyes had become the wide, white discs of terror that he was known for at his most horrified moments.

Dawn snickered quietly, even if she knew it was very real terror that Piplup was feeling. It was honestly too cute—even if it was at his expense. "No, nothing's wrong," she said. "Nurse Joy said you might not be all in one piece mentally if I let you out of the Pokeball too early, and I should've known that'd mean you'd be a paranoid head-case. You certainly need the rest after an intense healing like that."

"'plup..." Piplup grumbled quietly, giving Dawn a tiny version of stink-eye—only growing more annoyed when, inexplicably, Dawn found it worth giggling over.

"No, silly. Nothing's wrong, I mean it. Just… a change of plans, that's all."

"Piplup…?"

Dawn seemed uncomfortable at that. Her lips pursed tightly, as she searched for an answer—searching the floor in front of her in the meantime.

"I… No, we're just taking a quick detour. We've been invited by an old friend to go somewhere else for a bit, and I thought we might take him up on that."

Piplup narrowed his eyes. "'Lup'? Piplup-lup 'lup'?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Dawn said, wrinkling her nose, then folding her arms. Her face was quickly turning as pink as her scarf. "The 'he' part of it doesn't mean anything at all."

"Piplup..."

"I… No! We're leaving the contest because I— _we_ need a breath of fresh air. We've been doing this for too long, something like Ursula and Sage was bound to happen. Don't be so… conspiratorial..."

"Piplup… Piplup-lup 'lup' lup, lup?"

"'If it's no one then who is it'—I— _it's none of your business!"_

"Ippipluppiipippiluplup!"

"It's Ash!" Dawn blurted out.

At that moment, a sharp buzzing broke the moment, coming from the glass surface of the coffee table between both of the couches—Dawn's cell phone had just gotten a message. It made Piplup leap back, falling onto his rear back on the couch, his eyes wide and dazed with surprise. Dawn took the momentary distraction seriously, reaching out to snatch up the phone and flash the screen on. Her narrowed, discerning eyes read the message, prompting her to shut the screen off and stuff it in an open, waiting pouch on her carrying bag.

"Our ride is here—hopefully Sage didn't screw this up too..." Dawn said in a brisk, hushed tone, unable to properly look Piplup in the eye. As she stood, she reached for the suitcase by her side, grabbing for the handle of it—narrowly remembering to snatch up the Pokeball that had been left on the coffee table, and then stuffing it in the bag before extending the handle from the top of the suitcase.

"Piplup..."

Dawn nearly snapped at Piplup, giving him a look. He wasn't paying attention to her, instead having gotten up and stood on the thick, padded arm rest of the couch to look up and over the head of the couch—something that, while Dawn was annoyed by, took advantage of the moment she had where his prying, beady eyes weren't on him.

"Yeah, well, we'll have to save this conversation for later," Dawn huffed. "Maybe you could try to at least not blab to the driver about every little detail of my personal life—"

Just as Dawn was wrapping up her thought, she looked up to the doors at the front of the hotel lobby, just a short distance in front of where they had placed themselves at the couches. Her thought trailed off as every logical connection in her brain snapped in two.

The doors parted—bringing into the full view the figure of the driver who had been obscured by the tinted glass of the sliding doors. Johanna—Dawn's mom—was standing just on the other side, her car waiting in front of the hotel in the car terminal.

"Hello Dawn," Johanna smiled. "And hello Piplup!"

Eyes wide in disbelief, Dawn then looked back down to where Piplup was as he leaned against the side of the couch. His round head had turned back, and he was giving Dawn a look she couldn't understand. His eyes were only a little narrowed, but the muscles in his face had raised his forehead, lifting the white corners of his heart-shaped face, just around the eyes. In a cold second, Dawn realized that Piplup was raising what eyebrows he had; he was expressing a new emotion, 'smug'.

Dawn ground her teeth together silently.

" _Sage_..."

* * *

"Piplup certainly seems to be enjoying the drive," said Johanna, glancing up from the road ahead of her with a smile to look into the rear-view mirror for a brief moment. Out of the corner of her eye, in the front seat of the car, Piplup's tiny flippers held to the front of the his belly where the seatbelt crossed over it.

Dawn's posture would be more fitting if she were two feet and ten years younger—her arms folded tightly as she sat in the backseat, sitting upright uncomfortably—certainly unbecoming of someone who had been competing in Hearthome City's Contest Festival as a star performer. She looked too large for the tiny backseat of the comfortable, modern sedan, her knees pressed up against the back of Piplup's seat and practically pressed up to her stomach. She held her white beanie in her hand, rubbing the old white material of in a way that comforted her.

"I'm happy to give up my front seat to someone who will actually take the time talk with me," Johanna smiled gently, keeping her eyes ahead of the front of the car.

"It's not that weird that I don't have time for dinner," said Dawn. "I thought it was fairly reasonable considering I have—" she took a moment to flick her wrist, turning on the dim green screen of her Poketch, "—forty-five minutes left before take-off."

"I wasn't thinking some big sit-down meal with four courses and everything," said Johanna. "It's so rare to talk with my girl—much rarer than I'd expect from my daughter who had been living back in Sinnoh for three months. It seems this isn't the first dinner invitation you've been too busy for."

"I've been very busy."

"And that's what I had assumed. This sort of thing was inevitable—you wanting to leave town, head out on some abrupt adventure, go do something with your life."

This made Dawn unusually uncomfortable. Her attention had been turned outside of the window, watching as an array of dark trees lined the side of road, occasionally alluding to the dark, moonlit form of Mt. Coronet. As they passed under streetlights, Dawn's expression kept flashing past in the reflection of the window. She didn't look away, keeping her attention out the window—even if she couldn't see it out of the corner of her eye, she could feel her mother's eyes on her through the rear-view mirror.

"After all," Johanna continued, thinking to herself, somewhat wistfully, "that's what I did. I got that yearning once to leave."


	3. Chapter 3

High above the dark tree tops, beyond the view of the dark branches that blocked out the sky, thunder rumbled throughout the Kanto sky. A bright flash of lightning erupted, barely visible, casting ghostly shadows on the millions on millions of raindrops that fell from the sky.

Through the brief flashes of lightning, Dawn was running through the forest, using the brief instances of visibility to keep herself from running into the tall tree trunks—trying to find the path ahead of her that she had been on moments earlier. Instead she was now up to her knees in the wild grass, trying to hurry through the forest and get through the rain. Just underneath her, held close to her chest and wrapped tightly in her arms, Piplup was with her—looking disheveled and ragged, but not nearly as much as Dawn did.

In one brief, bold flash of lightning, Dawn saw what she was looking for—her suitcase, fallen on its side in the middle of the muddy path that cut through the forest. The duffel that had been stacked atop it had fallen away and landed in a puddle, ruining everything that was inside of it.

" _Piiiiiiidg!_ "

Hearing the fearsome cry again, Dawn ducked low behind a tree, clutching the side of it as she hid behind it and stared into the darkness. Coming down the path again, a large flock of Pidgey flew at high speed down over Dawn's suitcase, immediately dispersing and flying to the forest. Through the dark eaves of the trees in the forest, Dawn couldn't hear where the Pidgey were coming from—the sounds of fluttering and shrill squawks coming from all around her as if the forest were filled with millions of them, momentarily drowning out the crashing sound of rain—until it dissipated.

Dawn held Piplup close. Through the constant white noise of the forest, Dawn could hear Piplup's whimpering cries coming from her arms beneath her. It gave her some pause. As she looked down, rubbing her soaked arms against Piplup's soaked fur, she could feel his trembling. Her blue lengths of hair unstuck from where it had been matted down on the shoulders of her shirt and her neck, draping down over him and enveloping him in a curtain of darkness. Still, she could see his exhaustion—the result of another Pokemon battle.

"I… I think I made a mistake..." Dawn muttered quietly, staring down at the ground, feeling herself choking up with shame.

* * *

Dawn's countenance had changed dramatically. In the bright lights of the Pokemon Lab her expression had turned even darker than it had in the forest—far worse than it ever had been before when she had gotten on the plane and landed down in Kanto. The only thing interrupting the dark circles around her eyes were heavy, swollen bags—freshly appearing when her makeup had faded in the rain. The mud had been wiped off of her face and hair bands had bound her soaked hair out and away from her soaked face, leaving her sullen expression naked to any eye in the room. She was shivering, still cold in the warmth of the lab, the color faded from her skin in a way that made her look as ill as she really was.

Out of the corner of her eye, an equally sick Piplup was sitting on a table with a scientist nearby—providing a healing antidote to him.

At the end of the lab, beyond the first chamber of the entrance and reception area, beyond the second chamber where the majority of the machinery and other research areas resided—devoid of most of the scientists and researchers that were typically at work then—a set of large wooden sliding doors had been set like walls to separate the third and final chamber from easy access. They slid open, sliding into the walls on rolling tracks, moved by hand. The lab assistant that had rescued Dawn earlier was sliding them open and exposing the interior of the office space, exposing the people who had been chatting while Dawn waited.

Stepping out of the passing shadow of the wooden doors, walking out into the main light of the second, main chamber, Professor Oak appeared. Beside him, the woman he had been chatting with, was one Delia Ketchum—Ash's mom.

A surprised Dawn stood up, getting to her feet despite the exhaustion in her bones.

"Don't exasperate yourself yet, young lady," said Professor Oak, coming across the room at a brisk pace, smiling and happy to see her despite her ragged appearance. "You've had a long trip into Kanto. This is my lab, and I am the professor—"

"Professor Oak!" Dawn blurted out, her eyes wide, giving away how delirious she really was with exhaustion. "I know who you are, we've met before!"

"Yes we have, Dawn," Professor Oak smiled. He had reached just in front of where Dawn was standing, stopping to look over the horrid condition of her clothes. "It is very good to see you, even if it is under trying circumstances."

Dawn's attention had been so fixated on the professor that she hadn't paid any attention to anyone around her—including Delia, who she hadn't seen follow him but was now standing in front of her, looking over over as well, looking deeply concerned.

"I'm also sure that you've met Mrs. Ketchum on one or two occasions," said Oak, reaching out with a hand to touch on Delia's shoulder, bringing her closer into the conversation.

Dawn's wide-eyed, exhausted stare brought her to looking over Delia—her delirious state not giving away any of the emotions she had at that moment. Seeing her smile and her concern for Dawn unsettled her—even if it wouldn't have normally.

"My goodness Dawn, are you feeling alright? We're going to take great care of you," Delia smiled gently.

"Dawn, Mrs. Ketchum has offered you the chance to stay with her the evening. I would suggest taking her up on the offer for the sake of your health—and your Piplup's."


	4. Chapter 4

Dawn's vision was filled with the wooden surface of the dining table in the Ketchum household, her posture hunched over with her arms folded. Even if she had changed into some more comfortable pajamas—a simple black tanktop and thick, felt pajama pants—she still looked worn down and ragged. Her hair was still soaked, even though it had been pulled back into a makeshift, temporary bun on the backside of her head.

In moments, Dawn's vision was suddenly filled with a bowl of hot, steaming soup, a napkin and spoon slipping down beside where Dawn's arms had propped up her hunched over figure. It took her a few moments to consider the soup as she looked down into the hazy, milky yellow surface of the broth, seeing chunks of chicken and pasta, cut carrots and celery suspended while wide, flat bubbles of oil pooled on the surface.

Delia stood over Dawn for several long moments, looking over Dawn and the soup she had made, waiting for Dawn to respond at all.

"Thank you..." Dawn murmured, sitting herself up in the chair gently, straightening her back and regaining some semblance of her manners. When she looked over to where Delia was she offered a smile—even if it was fairly weak.

"Not a problem," Delia smiled gently. "It's not often we have guests over for dinner and it's quite the special occasion, even if it's under not so great circumstances."

Something about that stood out in Dawn's mind. Even as Delia walked away from the dining table, disappearing around a corner only to reappear in the kitchen behind the counter and just behind where she had been standing moments earlier, Dawn was still fixated on those words. She was staring ahead of herself, gazing into the vase in the center of the table and into the bouquet of picked flowers that had been setup there. The sink ran in the background, the sound of more water pouring into a sink that was already full.

Despite all that had happened, Dawn couldn't believe she was there, in that moment, in the Ketchum household. She had been distracted by the whole process of getting there, and in that moment she had remembered why she had come there in the first place.

"Mrs. Ketchum..."

"Yes dear?" asked Delia. Just in front of her on the sink, Piplup was sitting on a towel, shivering from the outside world, his pastel blue front stained with mud and filth from the outside world. The sink beside him had grown foamy, with a thick layer of foam and bubbles covering the water beneath it. Now that it was full, she had taken Piplup and lifted him up, lifting him and slipping him into the warm water of the sink—a miniature baths. The water came up to just beneath his shoulders, his head poking halfway above the sudsy foam. All of his shivering immediately ceased as he immersed himself in the warmth of it all.

Dawn swallowed, gathering up a small amount of courage—something she didn't think she would need in that moment. "Mrs. Ketchum… Where's Ash?"

Splashing echoed out of the kitchen as Piplup, sitting down in the sink, kicked his flipper arms around and tried to weakly nudge away Delia's hands from working the sudsy water onto his face. The thin, short feathers that covered his face becoming spiked and saturated with dirty bathwater, his eyes shut and his face twisting up in annoyance.

Delia smiled gently, watching as Piplup sleepily protested against the cleaning. "I was wondering when you were going to ask about that."

Dawn stared into the kitchen—the wide opening over the counter and under the lowered ceiling that housed cabinets, a glowing portal into what was happening in the kitchen, apart from the dark dining area that Dawn sat in with the lone light above that lit the table she sat at.

"It seems there was a mix-up between your assistant and Ash," said Delia. "Ash has gone to the Sinnoh region to meet you."

Dawn stared at her. Without makeup to shroud her face, her thin and rather unapparent eyelashes did nothing to hide the red ring that had flared around her eyes, making them look puffy and unsettled. Her lip trembled silently.

"I'm sorry, I was just as surprised and disappointed to hear about that too. It just seems like this evening keeps getting worse and worse—especially after that thunderstorm. I really hate to be the bearer of bad news, especially when it means that tonight ends in tremendous disappointment—but mistakes happen, right?"

Dawn was silent.

"On the plus side, I had just made up Ash's room so he would have a fresh bed when he comes back from traveling. Nothing helps being sick like a fresh bed, right?"

All of a sudden, the terse silence that filled the Ketchum household was broken by an abrupt, high-pitched Pokemon screeching, coupled with an intense violent splashing that came from the sink. Delia winced, her body pulling away from the sink as Piplup thrashed in the water, his paunch belly thudding against the metal tub of the sink. Her soap covered hands were held up in a sign of surrender, waiting for Piplup to calm down.

"Oh sweetie! I'm so sorry, I had no idea you had ears there!"

* * *

In a twin-sized bed, on a raised platform at bunk-bed height, Dawn lay silently in the dark bedroom—Ash's dark bedroom. On the desk that had been placed up against the wooden structure that supported the bed, a small padded bed for Piplup had been set up, his large round head poking out beneath the soft blanket that had been laid over him as he snoozed silently—clearly needing the rest after a long day of traveling.

The pale blue blanket, dotted with vintage Pokeball print all over it, covered Dawn's slender body as she lay flat in the bed, her eyes fixed on the ceiling.

A large glossy poster had been tacked to the ceiling, covered in dust, the colors washed away from years of indirect sunlight from the window at the front of the room. It was a large artist's rendition of a Charizard, done in ink and with vivid colors. The large printed text near the base of the poster said it was for a competition that had taken place over twenty years ago—the Pokemon League Expo. Behind the explosive, powerful looking Charizard, cut out of the darkening explosion that backed it, a white shape seemed to cut out of the background and merge with the margins of the poster—a slim, triangular 'L', one that Dawn had seen on pictures of Ash with his old hat.

"I've made a huge mistake..."

Dawn forced her eyes shut. A small tear had pooled in the corner of her eye, her face tensing up softly.

* * *

"Well, I wasn't expecting any guests so I'll have to apologize," said Delia, "but I did make plans to take a trip to Celadon City. If you're as ill as you were last night I imagine you'll spend most of today in bed and taking things easy."

The scraping sound of a plate being set on the table snapped Dawn awake, the 'long blink' she was taking in shutting her eyes suddenly breaking as her back snapped upright and she looked bewildered. Down beneath her, a plate was being set on the table for her—pancakes, with lots and lots of syrup. It took herself several seconds for her eyes to adjust—adjusting to the vast swaths of bright sunlight that were coming in through the windows in the home, stark in contrast to the storms of last night, to the quiet sounds of life outside in the tiny town—and then adjusting to the pancakes in front of her. Their glossy, syrup-covered surface looked tantalizing, and would certainly have made her ill the night before—her hunger from not eating the night before had only grown.

"Are you alright hon? You don't look so good."

The bags around Dawn's eyes were just as dark as they were the night before, only more pronounced in the ambiance of the streaming sunlight. More than that, her hair had dried from the rainstorm at some point when she had eventually fallen asleep, forcing into strange, bed-headed shapes—looking more like a Tangela had died on her scalp than anything. Her constitution had visibly weakened, her posture seeming slumped and visibly wavering.

When Dawn looked up to see Delia, seeing the concerned wandering of her eyes, it gave Dawn a moment to think about the appearance she was giving off. She reached up, her hand brushing through the stiff lengths of her hair that were sticking out, realizing it was every nightmare of a Pokemon Contest gone wrong that she could imagine—strangely, it didn't faze her.

"I… I just didn't—" Dawn cut herself off. She had thought about confessing to her restless night of sleep, but soon thought better of it. She put on a gentle, earnest smile. "Well, you know how it is… Just takes a good shower to clean one up, right?"

Delia, her hair still glossy from showering not that long ago, smiled. Without her makeup on, the freckles studding her face were at the forefront of her complexion in a dense cluster.

"That, and a little coffee," Delia grinned.

* * *

A thin white bathrobe clung to Dawn's body, her arms folded as she stood in the bathroom. Her bare toes thumped quietly on the linoleum floor as she waited, the shower running and pluming up a little steam from behind the curtain. She ran her thumb over wet fingers she had—feeling where she had tested the water moments earlier and found it to not be quite as warm as she wanted.

Out of the corner of her vision, there was a monster in the mirror, one that Dawn wasn't trying to look at. When she finally did, she saw the Medusa-like wreath of hair that stood out in all directions, a fluffy mess of bluish hair with strands that swayed in even the gentle rush of steam that came from the shower. It bothered her—had she really been that wild looking in front of Mrs. Ketchum?

Eventually she couldn't take it any longer—she had to do something about it, whether or not she was about to take a shower didn't matter. She stepped up to the mirror, facing it, pulling her hair back and trying to straighten it by combing her fingers through it. She tried to smooth the bangs down in front of her forehead, trying to make them look as smooth and aligned as they normally did. Trying to smooth them down became a harder task than she thought. She went to the sink, turning on the water and wetting her fingers, stepping up onto a stool in front of the sink and smoothing her hair down.

After moments of smoothing her hair down, Dawn paused. She straightened her back from where she had hunched over to be close to the mirror, thinking to herself silently. She then looked down to her feet, seeing the stool that she was standing on.

She lifted a bare foot, revealing that it was a child's stool, painted in bright blue and bright yellow. The image of much tinier, much more cartoonish feet had been printed on—as well as the words 'a future trainer stands here!'.

Dawn thought to herself silently. This was Ash's bathroom.

As she stared ahead of her, looking at the sink in front of her, she saw that the towel she had set in the corner was sitting uncomfortably—sitting on top of something. She reached for it, lifting up the towel and exposing what was underneath it: a hat. She set the towel in the dry basin of the sink, her eyes locked on the hat she had just uncovered—Ash's hat—one of his old hats. It was red, just like all his other hats, but this one had a black section in the front of it with a stitched on, colored Pokeball. It was a bright, electric green—identical to the one that he had worn when he had traveled with Dawn, but not the cool blue that she remembered.

Dawn looked away from the hat. Instead, she looked to the door, where the rest of the house was waiting for her on the other side—a house empty of anyone.


	5. Chapter 5

The dark interior of the closet became flooded with light as the door slid open. Dawn's shadow filled the space, darkening what she looked at inside.

In the background of Ash's bedroom, the sound of the shower running was coming from just down the hall and through the walls of the bedroom—likely getting hotter than Dawn had wanted. She still stood in her bathrobe, her feet sitting uncomfortably on the thin carpet, her free hand playing with the thin folds of fabric that covered her chest.

In front of her, inside the closet, an array of blue jackets filled her vision, hanging on clothes-hangers, suspended on a beam that spanned the interior of the closet. Her hand reached out tentatively, reaching for and feeling the many jackets laid out there, pulling them apart from each other.

There was a navy-blue jacket, with short white sleeves and a large white collar, a pair of green fingerless gloves hooked onto loops at the ends of the sleeves and a red, white-fronted hat hanging on the neck of the hanger.

There was a blue, puffy jacket with dark sleeves, a gray hood on top of it. It was missing a hat—but it clearly belonged to the one she had found in the bathroom.

There was a sky blue and powder blue all-weather jacket. Another red and white hat was attached to the neck of the hanger, but while the logo had faded from the other one this one had a bright blue, circular Pokeball emblem in the center of it.

There was a dark blue, zipped up jacket, the sleeves shortened on it. The hat hung on it was mostly red, with a white brim and a single white arc on the front of it.

Dawn's hand pulled away. She turned it over silently, looking at the palm of it, seeing that thick layers of dust had caked around the edges and seeped into the pads of her fingertips. Even as she looked back—a haze seemingly kicked up and emanating from the dark interior of the closet—the jackets looked worn and ragged, like they hadn't been used in years. The first jacket, the one that Ash had seemingly worn on his first Pokemon journey, had become frayed; the color was fading in parts, the white sleeves looking stiff and the collar looking crusty, some dirt stains and burns that had appeared looking like they had come off as much as they possibly could.

Dawn backed away silently, seemingly in a creeping horror. She gazed into the closet, unable to look away from it like some kind of car wreck as she backpedaled on silent bare feet. As she did, a backpedaling heel collided with a wooden dresser and made her back slam into it. Instinctively she slid towards the wall, the long, skirt-like ends of her robe swaying and catching on something as her knees bumped into something hard. She looked up, seeing that she had collided with a tall coat rack, just in time to watch as a large blue overcoat fell off of the hook and fell onto Dawn, stifling her and her surprised shout in moments.

"Aaahh…!"

Where the old coat had fallen, Dawn felt it slump down over her legs and piling up down by her ankles. She kicked off of it and looked up. She then looked in shock as another coat was falling onto her. This time, she put out her arms to catch it and stop it from falling into her. The weight of the jacket made her step back, the jacket falling into her chest and meeting her there.

Opening her eyes again, making sure that nothing was going to fall onto her—again—Dawn then felt around the jacket that had fallen onto her. She slowly lowered the arms that clutched the jacket close to her chest, leaning it out to look at the front of it that had landed on her.

It was a simple gray jacket—a large, puffy gray center with a yellow, arcing band crossing the center. The sleeves were the same off-white shade as the protruding collar.

It was Ash's jacket. It was _the_ jacket, the one that Ash had worn when he was with Dawn.

Though Dawn had been careful with what she touched with her dusty hands, she made no effort to stop herself from feeling Ash's jacket. Her fingers sank into the plush, padded, all-weather material that covered the front, feeling the weight of it. Her fingers grazed along the wrinkled, warped collar on his jacket, smoothing it gently—feeling where familiar dirt-stains had been left like they had been made yesterday, not two or three years ago.

In a single, depraved moment, Dawn lifted the jacket up to her face and buried her face in the collar, taking a deep inhale of it. It smelled dirty—like Sinnoh dirt, like the smell Dawn had remembered on herself when they had been traveling the region. It was imbued with Ash's musk—the kind of sweaty, natural scent he would get after a long day of traveling.

Dawn felt a weight in the center of the chest. As she lowered the jacket from where she had smelled it, she looked down, looking to the chest. There was a noticeable lump there, something that Dawn put a hand over. She reached for the collar and unzipped the jacket, lowering and exposing the interior until she exposed what she had felt: Ash's hat. There was a little fabric strap on the inside where the back strap of the hat had been had been affixed to the inside of, almost presenting the hat to Dawn. It was nearly identical to the hat she had found in the bathroom, where the hat was red with a single black section in the center of the front—the Pokeball emblem in the center was blue, not green.

A stillness fell over Dawn as she stared at the hat—a stillness only broken when Dawn felt a weakness in her legs. Dawn slowly lowered herself, putting herself down on her knees, sitting back on her legs as she held the jacket out and draped it between her two arms. Her eyes were fixed on the hat in front of her, sitting in the core of the jacket.

There was the thumping sound of footsteps coming from the hallway behind Dawn—too light to be Delia's. Before he had even poked his head into the room, before Dawn could even turn around to see that it was Piplup, Dawn knew it was Piplup. She didn't bother turning around.

"Who am I..." Dawn whispered to herself quietly, her voice low and wispy—a slight quavering in it even catching herself by surprise. It made her swallow, painfully, her eyes forcing shut for a moment, feeling fresh hot tears coming up to the surface.

As Dawn took an even shakier breath, she let the jacket slip out of where she had held it in her arms, letting it slide to the ground in front of her and fall onto the carpet. Her arms were held at her sides in defeat, held out in weakness and resting on slumped-over hands.

"Who am I to interrupt someone… someone's life..." Dawn spoke up again. The tears in her eyes were present in her voice. "Who am I to intrude… to interrupt someone's own journey… just because my own isn't going the way I wanted to..."

Behind her, Dawn didn't hear anything from Piplup. She kept quiet, silently rising, sliding out her legs from beneath where she sat, standing herself up. She held the hat in her hands, pried from the inside of the jacket and held out in front of her. Planting her naked legs down, the white bathrobe around her body swaying gently, the messy blue length of hair trailing down to midway down her robe, Dawn still faced the wall and thought to herself silently.

"I… This is my mess… my mistake… I don't know why I should have bothered coming here… It's time we left, Piplup… I don't think there's anything left for us here..."

There was a long moment of silence in the room. Dawn kept her eyes shut, tears flowing down her face, making her nose run and sniffle. The nimble grip she had on Ash's hat clamped down and became pained, her fingers quivering as she held onto it and whimpered quietly.

"Dawn..."

The sudden appearance of a voice in the room made Dawn shriek. She leaped up from the floor, her eyes going wide as she stumbled forward. She slammed into the coat rack she had toppled earlier, making it rock around on its legs as she stumbled past it and into the back wall. She quickly pressed herself against it and flipped herself around, grasping for her body to cover it before she even knew who it was—subconsciously, she knew.

There Ash was, standing in his own bedroom. Dressed casually as though he had always been part of the room, his messy black hair was in nearly the same shape as Dawn remembered it, his lightly tanned complexion looking not a shade darker or lighter than the day Dawn had last seen him. Through his normally bright features he looked very concerned, his dark eyes piercing through Dawn's when her gaze met his.

The grip Dawn had on the folds of her bathrobe was tight, holding together the thin flaps of it to cover herself in a desperate and ultimately futile bid. Her legs crossed in a weak attempt to cover anything—even if there wasn't anything that could be shown. Through the mess of hair that framed her face, Dawn was beginning to glow and radiate with a bright blush, her eyes red and irritated from tears, staring out at Ash in disbelief.

"A-Ash…!" Dawn gasped, her voice at the same whispering tone it had been moments before he had walked in. "I… Oh gosh…."

"It's… It's okay… I didn't even leave the airport in Sinnoh, actually," Ash said sheepishly, putting his hands out defensively. He had taken a step forward, trying to be as approachable and friendly as he could. "I had thought that your assistant said to meet you there—something about a Pokemon Contest?—and, well, here we are..."

Dawn swallowed. Her eyes had lowered to the ground, her face growing numb. "It… It was my mistake..."

Ash smiled, brightening. "Heh, your fault for giving us both a fun adventure? You're so weird, Dawn."

A faint smile came to Dawn's lips and a small snort of a giggle exited her. Still, her gaze had dropped down to the ground, her focus elsewhere—mainly on trying not to die of shame. Her body quaked silently.

"That… That didn't sound too good, just now..." said Ash, beginning a thought with all the tact his body was capable of.

The numbing sensation in Dawn's face was growing fast, reaching her brain and numbing it—not quick enough, Dawn felt, unable to bear what was to come to pass. If she died right there, shriveling up to a sudden husk of a human being and fell to the ground, it would be far more pleasurable than being outed as a desperate shell of a person right then and there—like she could feel was coming on.

Down in front of Dawn's vision, Ash had stooped down, squatting over the floor and the mess that Dawn had made. He had grabbed up his hat from the floor, holding it out in front of himself and turning it gently in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted his old jacket, sprawled out on the floor and half slumped against the dresser between Dawn and the bunk bed nearby.

"I remember lots about you, Dawn, and us. I remember the good times we had—how smart and resourceful you are, how calming you could be, but also how determined you were to see things through and make sure they went they way they were supposed to," said Ash. "I guess—well—I guess I forgot about some of the not-so-great times that would happen..."

Dawn stared at the floor, trying to keep her constitution. She was somewhere between feeling soothed by Ash's words and throwing up on the floor—the thought of barfing in front of Ash somehow making that sensation worse.

"I remember… I remember you getting so caught up… When something or one thing bad would happen… You'd tear yourself apart… I wasn't so good at telling you what you needed to hear when that would happen… I guess that's a common complaint about me, eheh..."

When Ash stood himself up, Dawn never changed her gaze, even as Ash's close-coming shadow grew to darken her face. He had come to the point where she couldn't look around him or avoid him, the black t-shirt he wore filling her gaze. Just in front of her, Ash was holding his old hat.

"I… I could do better…" said Ash. "There are times... Well... There are times when I feel like I can do it all. Like I can conquer the world and.. and seize the day! But... well... There are times that I don't so hot... I feel... well... I feel like I knew you did. I didn't ever know how to respond, and, well, the point is that I never tried. I don't know that I can ever make peace with the times that I don't feel so hot if I don't help you when you aren't feeling so... good. I think... I think I just need to start asking when you need help. Just... the best I can do is ask what you need. I can't pretend to know what you need, but I can certainly help you when I know you're needing... someone."

The hat raised in Ash's hand. Dawn then realized, her gaze widening for a brief moment, that Ash was offering the hat to her. For a moment, Dawn looked up to Ash and saw him there—his face overshadowed in the light of the bedroom, his eyes looking down on him with the same determination he looked onto anything with—but this time, it was special.

Dawn then took the hat from Ash's hands, wielding it in her own, looking down at it and feeling the material between her fingers. Then, looking up to Ash, she raised the hat up and set it down snugly on top of Ash's head, fitting it down over the tufts of black hair that wanted to stick up. Ash looked like Ash again for that moment.

"Just be Ash… That's all I ask..."

Ash's smile grew. "I... I wouldn't ask anything other than that from you, either."


End file.
